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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773980">[Don't Fear] The Reaper</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cranky_Tanky/pseuds/Cranky_Tanky'>Cranky_Tanky</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Another one of those "this is too much jizz" fics, Blow Jobs, Courting Rituals, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fear Play, Humiliation, I may have a problem, Knotting, M/M, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Mindfuck, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Knotting, Rough Oral Sex, Sort Of, Spike and Valve, Sticky Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Tarn thinks that fucked up mindgames is an acceptable way to court someone, Transfluid (Transformers), Valve Fingering (Transformers), Valve Oral (Transformers), only one person is playing here, the delphi situation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:27:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,028</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cranky_Tanky/pseuds/Cranky_Tanky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarn and Pharma have had their arrangement for some time. But it starts to change when Tarn falls in love with Pharma.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pharma/Tarn (Transformers)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>trigger warnings:</p><p>this whole story is very dubious consent, with implied physical abuse and heavy psychological manipulation throughout.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>All our times have come/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Here but now they're gone/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Seasons don't fear the reaper/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain, (we can be like they are)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Come on baby, (don't fear the reaper)/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby take my hand, (don't fear the reaper)/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We'll be able to fly, (don't fear the reaper)/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby I'm your man”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma sighed out a breath through his puffed cheeks, interrupting it with his tongue in short bursts until it was all gone. Then he paced around. He had paperwork on his desk, but it wasn’t like any of it was going to get done in the next half hour. There was a storm brewing -- he should leave an hour early this time, to make sure he wasn’t late. He was never late to these appointments. And this had been a surprise one. Pharma’s t-cog quota for the month wasn’t due for another two weeks, but Tarn had suddenly requested his presence, out of the blue. Should he bring a t-cog? Just to make sure?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had an </span>
  <em>
    <span>idea </span>
  </em>
  <span>of what Tarn </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted. He just didn’t think about it. Tarn had done this before. And no t-cog had been required. Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pharma.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma’s ailerons fluttered erratically, frenetically, and he resisted the urge to just bolt out the door </span>
  <em>
    <span>now </span>
  </em>
  <span>and throw himself headlong into the wind, transforming midair to burn fuel all the way to the Headquarters. If he showed up too early, that couldn’t end well for him. But Primus, he hated the waiting. He told himself it was just because he wanted to get it over with, hating the way the deadline loomed like a guillotine. Part of himself knew it wasn’t true.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The doctor lost the battle with his willpower -- cursing to himself, he scurried over to the lights and threw the switch off, and then locked his office door. He was leaving too early… he was leaving </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>too early. He stormed down the hall to the launchpad, nurses and patients scurrying out of his way and flattening themselves to the wall to let him pass. He barely noticed them, eyes trained straight ahead on the door. He was making too much of a fuss leaving like this. People were going to talk. People were going to talk. People were going to talk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nobody was going to talk, he was the CMO! He could be… eccentric. They’d just assume he needed to stretch his wings! Yes, perfect. His ailerons fluttered again like he was already trying to transform. He threw open the launchpad doors and finally transformed, taking off into the sky. At least he was beating the winter storm blowing in, dark clouds brewing on the horizon. The cold air still bit on him, numbing his wingtips cruelly. He’d never been happier to see the DJD Headquarters looming on the horizon, and landed on their launchpad, transforming as soon as his wheels touched down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then, shivering, he approached the door, peering into the door camera. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“P-please let me in,” he trembled, plaintive. “I k-know I’m -- early, but… I simply c-couldn’t wait another s-second.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>------------------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Delphi: Just Previous.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>First Aid watched the CMO transform and shoot off from the landing pad, taking off like a bat out of hell with its tail on fire. Puzzled, he frowned. Pharma got like that sometimes. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>horrible </span>
  </em>
  <span>to deal with when he did, so First Aid tried to do it as little as possible. “What do you suppose has gotten into Pharma?” First Aid asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, who knows.” Ambulon shook his head. “Fliers. They always get the zoomies. He’ll burn it off in a few hours.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm.” First Aid hummed, staring out at the empty launch pad. “If you say so… he seemed terribly agitated, though.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, they get like that. Now are you gonna come help me, or not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-----------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma had just barely gotten over his shivers from the cold in his delicate inner workings when Kaon dropped him at Tarn’s door wordlessly, disappearing into the ship to probably spend his time… doing whatever he did in his spare hours. Mutilating animals, probably. As Pharma stepped into Tarn’s office, spark thundering in his throat, he felt a whole new kind of shiver run up his back. The monstrous tank was reading over paperwork at his huge, grand desk. Pharma didn’t dare say anything, as quiet as the grave. And he didn’t dare come in any further than what was required to get him out of the hallway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Close the door behind you, please,” Tarn said, voice horribly soft as usual. His tone was neutral, unreadable, torturous. He wasn’t even using his ability -- Pharma could tell, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>what it felt like --  and it still made Pharma’s spark pound and spiral like it was going to whirl out of his chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma did as he was asked. His ailerons fluttered again. The door shut with a finality. Was he too presumptuous with arriving nearly an hour early? Oh Primus, he was. He absolutely was. And now he couldn’t back out of it, either. He’d rather be flying around in circles over the headquarters in the cold right now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, go ahead and sit down,” Tarn chuckled to himself. “I wasn’t expecting you this early.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, well.” Pharma sniffed, covering his terror with snootiness. “I got tired of waiting.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn put his datapad down and stared holes in Pharma, his baleful red optics like two laser scalpels. It pinned the jet to the spot on the way to the couch across the room, by the record player, as Pharma froze like a petrorabbit spotted by a cyberhawk. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Did you, now?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn’s voice was still unreadable. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>see.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was unbearable,” Pharma offered, babbling. “Waiting around in my office, pacing the floor. Indescribable. I couldn’t wait another second.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn leaned back. “Is that </span>
  <em>
    <span>so,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he mused, and Pharma thought he heard… a smile? In the tank’s voice. “Well, if I had </span>
  <em>
    <span>known </span>
  </em>
  <span>you were so </span>
  <em>
    <span>eager </span>
  </em>
  <span>I would’ve invited you over at your</span>
  <em>
    <span> leisure.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It pleases me to know you’re so </span>
  <em>
    <span>desirous</span>
  </em>
  <span> of my </span>
  <em>
    <span>company.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not it,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma snapped, ignoring the voice that said outright rejecting Tarn was a bad idea. His spark thundered even harder, and he feared he was going to have spark arrest at this point.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no,” Tarn hushed, humming softly. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh,</span>
  </em>
  <span> there it was -- Pharma felt his sparkrate slow down, forced down like the draining tide. As it dropped, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dropped, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>dropped,</em>
  </b>
  <span> Pharma was briefly terrified Tarn was just going to let him plummet, offlining right there as the tank hummed, softly, coming around from his desk to approach.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But just then -- when it was back to a slow, steady thrum -- Tarn did something else, buoying Pharma’s sparkrate to stay where it was, even as he kept humming. Pharma could still feel the hooks in his spark, and he resisted the urge to gasp in relief. But he felt like he couldn’t -- he couldn’t even have that, because the need to gasp and wheeze had dissipated the second that his sparkrate had stopped pounding. He just let out one single, solitary whimper from his lips, barely audible. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A plea for mercy,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought, and quashed it. Tarn finally got to him, a hand coming up to run gently claws down Pharma’s jawline and under his chin, stroking, petting. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>misunderstand me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma,” Tarn cooed, softly. “You think me </span>
  <em>
    <span>upset </span>
  </em>
  <span>at your </span>
  <em>
    <span>presumption.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I </span>
  <em>
    <span>assure </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>the case.” Primus, his voice was so soft, so gentle, it sent shivers down Pharma’s spine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Rather,” Tarn murmured, and Pharma’s spark throbbed. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>flattered,</span>
  </em>
  <span> dear Pharma. It appears that I’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>been doing something </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>to have you </span>
  <em>
    <span>impatient </span>
  </em>
  <span>for my </span>
  <em>
    <span>presence.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> it!” Pharma snapped, in spite of himself. He couldn’t let this beast think Pharma actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to see him (even if, in a horrible, secret part of himself, Pharma couldn’t deny his own excitement -- like standing on a precipice just before jumping.) </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Then why have you come so </span>
  <em>
    <span>early,</span>
  </em>
  <span> knowing that you’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>leaving </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the same time as </span>
  <em>
    <span>previously agreed?</span>
  </em>
  <span> A whole extra </span>
  <em>
    <span>hour </span>
  </em>
  <span>with me, Pharma.” Tarn tutted, mirthfully. “One might get </span>
  <em>
    <span>the wrong idea.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I -- thought I might be permitted to get this over with earlier if I came earlier,” Pharma whispered, weak and thready. Horror dawned on him when he realized what he’d done to himself. He’d certainly have his wings ripped off if he came late, and coming a few minutes early had never prompted the blink of an eye. But now, he’d just gone and landed himself aft-first into an entire extra hour with Tarn. Pharma swallowed, audibly, feeling his throat cabling flex against Tarn’s fingers where they petted the side of his neck. “Is that… </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>the case?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn tutted again, louder, more smug. “Pharma, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>wound </span>
  </em>
  <span>me,” he cooed, each word sending a pulse through Pharma’s spark, keeping it at that infuriatingly slow, calm pace. Pharma thought he might be panicking if it weren’t for that, and it was a horrible feeling. Pharma almost preferred the pain to when Tarn did this -- physically not allowing him to panic. “I’m not so </span>
  <em>
    <span>uncouth </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>boorish </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you can’t spend </span>
  <em>
    <span>just another hour</span>
  </em>
  <span> with me. Besides, I’m so </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleased </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you came to see me so </span>
  <em>
    <span>eagerly</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- even </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleading</span>
  </em>
  <span> at my front door! -- that I suppose a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>reward </span>
  </em>
  <span>is in order.” Tarn picked up one of Pharma’s hands, threading their fingers together, and turned them so he could press his mask to the back of Pharma’s hand in the facsimile of a kiss. “Does that sound </span>
  <em>
    <span>agreeable,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma fidgeted. “F-fine.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tarn finally let Pharma’s spark out of his grip. “Go ahead and </span>
  <em>
    <span>make yourself comfortable,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma said nothing -- just walked across the plush rug on the floor to the couch and primly sat down, reclining against the arm of the couch closest to him. He tried to keep his nose in the air as much as he could manage, ailerons flicking. He crossed his legs to appear casual. Tarn went over to his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out an energon treat and a blindfold. Pharma swallowed again, coolant beading on his upper lip, just barely. He prayed Tarn wouldn’t notice. “I’m not a pet,” he snapped instead, anxious. “I don’t need a treat.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn didn’t respond to him, just coming over with both things. He set the candy aside on the table and brandished the blindfold. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Head forward,</span>
  </em>
  <span> please.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Taking the mask off today?” Pharma prodded nervously, leaning his head forwards. Tarn’s hands were impossibly gentle as he put on the blindfold, molding it to Pharma’s eyes so that the jet couldn’t see a damn thing. He turned up the sensitivity of his audials and heard Tarn’s soft breaths behind the mask, the rustle of the fabric as Tarn secured it tight. He never knew what to expect when Tarn took off the mask. He never knew what to expect besides.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn’s joints just clicked as he knelt in front of Pharma. The jet twitched, hyperaware to every little sound, every little disturbance in the air. Tarn leaned towards the table and switched on the record player. The Empyrean suite crackled to life, but not the part that everyone knew. Then Tarn was picking up the candy, unwrapping it, and pressing it to Pharma’s lips. Pharma dutifully opened his mouth. He wasn’t about to get uppity when he was blinded. In spite of himself, and how much he didn’t want to like it, he couldn’t deny that the candy tasted delicious. He let out a soft moan of appreciation and savored it, sucking on it in one cheek.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I reached an </span>
  <em>
    <span>epiphany </span>
  </em>
  <span>the other day,” Tarn murmured gently, petting Pharma’s full cheek, feeling the bulge of the candy with his thumb. “I thought about how I </span>
  <em>
    <span>sometimes </span>
  </em>
  <span>feel that my </span>
  <em>
    <span>favorite movement</span>
  </em>
  <span> can get a bit </span>
  <em>
    <span>played out,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you know? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perhaps </span>
  </em>
  <span>I simply need a small break from it, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>further appreciate</span>
  </em>
  <span> its beauty. And besides -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible</span>
  </em>
  <span> manners to mix business with </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasure,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma chewed the candy in his mouth, and just as he swallowed it, Tarn picked up his hand again. As he did, the click of his mask coming off sounded, and then the soft clatter of it getting set on the table. Pharma gulped. What was it to be? Biting? Tearing?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, Pharma’s hand was raised up, his fingers twitching when they touched down against warm, supple, </span>
  <em>
    <span>plump </span>
  </em>
  <span>metal. A rough scratch of it started at what Pharma dully realized was Tarn’s upper lip. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma thought, spark seizing and thundering off at breakneck speed again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not my hands, anything but my hands-!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn gently took one of Pharma’s fingers into his mouth and suckled the tip, tongue swirling around it. Pharma’s face immediately heated up as he squirmed. Ah, so that was how it was to be. He refused to let Tarn have the satisfaction of his wantonness -- the tank would have to pry that out of him. But good heavens, Pharma had medic’s hands for sure, and Tarn knew how to press every little button. He sucked Pharma’s finger in a slow, descending pass, like he was sucking spike. Pharma resisted the urge to hang his mouth open and pant as Tarn’s thumb claw simultaneously teased the mechanisms in his palm. Each touch was going straight to his spark and his panels, but he’d be damned before he willingly showed it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then Tarn started </span>
  <em>
    <span>humming </span>
  </em>
  <span>again. Pharma arched his back and moaned as the vibrations went straight to his spark and array, buzzing around inside of him. Tarn just removed Pharma’s finger from his mouth and moved onto the next one, teasing the fingertip with his tongue. Pharma keened outright as he was still humming, soft, tender. The jet panted, mouth hanging open.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So </span>
  <em>
    <span>eager, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pharma,” Tarn murmured breathlessly against his hand, lips moving against his fingers. He pressed a gentle kiss to the hand he was currently molesting, and Pharma could feel the outline of a huge scar up his face. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoying </span>
  </em>
  <span>your reward this much already? I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>much more</span>
  </em>
  <span> in store for you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma didn’t dare answer. He just panted and squirmed. That humming was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>not in his spark.</span>
  </em>
  <span> With a dawning fright, he realized that Tarn had just been humming to stimulate the tactile sensors</span>
  <em>
    <span> in his hand, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and those hooks </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his spark. Tarn had just -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>tricked </span>
  </em>
  <span>him into being a little shareware slut! Pharma’s wings fluttered in indignation and fear. “Stop playing with me,” he snipped in spite of himself, and then immediately knew it was the wrong decision. Tarn didn’t move, just patiently mouthed at Pharma’s fingers, but Pharma knew it had to have been the wrong decision. How could it not have been? He gritted his teeth, waiting for Tarn’s claws to sink into a wing and start ripping. He didn’t do that often, but he delighted in it when he did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn separated from his hand and Pharma’s vents quickened. This was it. This was it. This was it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, alright,” Tarn murmured, and the hooks were back in Pharma’s spark, forcibly calming him again. He felt his breathing dip back down to normal and wanted to scream. Tarn rose, music still playing softly in the background, and sat next to Pharma, weighing down the couch next to him. “In front of me, then. I’ll give you what you want.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to leave,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma bit back. Instead he did as he was told, getting down on his knees in front of Tarn’s own spread knees. He knew the drill. Tarn’s spike pressurized and Pharma leaned forwards, hands gently lighting on Tarn’s thighs. He waited. Was Tarn going to make him choke down the whole thing, this time? Sometimes he did that, laughed at Pharma’s pitiful attempts to suck him all down. Tarn’s hand gently came to cup his jaw. “Just the </span>
  <em>
    <span>head </span>
  </em>
  <span>in your mouth, my dear Pharma, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this time,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he cooed, voice sending pulses of pleasure through Pharma’s spark. The jet squirmed, panting again, grinding his valve panel against his heel. Tarn had done this before -- insisting that Pharma bowed low before him, sucking spike like a medical student trying to score a good grade on a final, was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>reward.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Except, it was, and that was the worst part -- because Tarn made it a reward, humming in a steady crescendo to make Pharma’s spark nearly flare and implode with pleasure, often making him overload multiple times.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma did as he was told, again, leaned forwards and licked up the underside of Tarn’s spike. He tasted the cool metal of the ring piercing on the underside, just under the head. Then he opened his mouth and moaned as he managed to wrap his lips around it, sucking. Tarn groaned softly above him and Pharma tasted a hint of prefluid mixed with the metal tang of the piercing. The doctor whimpered, outright, manually overriding his panels’ attempts to open. He just swirled his tongue around the nodes under the head, flicking the piercing, and bobbed his head up and down, letting the head slip in and out of his lips. Then he pulled off and started kissing the slit, slipping and flicking his tongue into it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn rewarded him by humming again, the hooks in Pharma’s spark tugging again. The doctor gasped, mouth falling slack against Tarn’s hard spike on his cheek. His panels flew open, lubricant dribbling down his thigh, and he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. His spike dripped a thread of prefluid, twitching for stimulation. He moaned helplessly around Tarn’s spike, suckling and hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head, trying to do well to get more of that </span>
  <em>
    <span>Voice.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Primus, he wanted it, he wanted it so badly. One of his hands left Tarn’s thighs to stroke his own spike.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn said, firmly, and it sent a shock of pain-pleasure through Pharma’s spark. Pharma just arched his back, a squealing moan leaving his mouth and muffled by Tarn’s spikehead as his eyes rolled back behind the blindfold. But he took his hand away, and Tarn </span>
  <em>
    <span>purred,</span>
  </em>
  <span> sending little shockwaves of pleasure wracking through Pharma. “Good, </span>
  <em>
    <span>good…</span>
  </em>
  <span> put your hands to </span>
  <em>
    <span>good use,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor, hm?” And with that, he was guiding them to the shaft of his spike. “You can do </span>
  <em>
    <span>two things at once.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma got the memo -- as he bobbed his head shallowly and worked his tongue, his hands twisted and rubbed up and down, squeezing. Tarn leaned back, all the way back, and Pharma heard him sigh, a sound of </span>
  <em>
    <span>utter decadence.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And then the humming was back and the medjet could just about sob in delirious joy, spark thrumming harder, and harder, and </span>
  <b>
    <em>oh-!</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma trembled and whimpered and moaned around Tarn’s spike as he overloaded, drool escaping from the seal of his lips to slide down Tarn’s hot spike, slicking the halting, shaking movement of his hands. His spike spurted transfluid on the floor and his valve pulsed and clenched, aching for something to fill it even in overload. He panted and snorted through his nose, eyes rolling back into his head as he sagged, crying out around the tankformer’s spike.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Remembering himself suddenly, Pharma resumed his work with his tongue, and Tarn kept humming, extending Pharma’s overload to the point of delicious pain. The doctor outright sobbed now, crying tears around Tarn’s spike and feeling his throat convulse when the head of Tarn’s spike pressed against it. He quickly pulled back, knowing he’d gone too far down. Luckily, the tank didn’t seem to mind, so Pharma just kept working his spike shaft and playing his tongue across Tarn’s nodes and piercing. He could taste prefluid now, swallowing it with the drool so more didn’t seep out. He wasn’t very successful, but he just tightened the seal of his lips, knowing that he had to be successful with swallowing what was coming next. Tarn was groaning now, only haphazardly humming when he could remember it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It teased the Doctor, squeezing his spark and then letting it go in erratic pulses. He removed Pharma’s hands from his spike, planting them at his knees, and then a hand drifted to the back of Pharma’s head, holding him down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma felt him cum before he tasted it, really -- Tarn’s spike twitched, jumping across his tongue, hot and throbbing. His hand pushed Pharma’s head down further, just a little further, and Pharma felt a spurt of hot cum hit the back of his throat and started swallowing, immediately. If he got behind it would fill up his cheeks far faster than he could swallow and it would have only one place to go -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>out.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma suckled and swallowed and moaned wantonly, whining as his cheeks started to fill up despite his best efforts. He started swallowing deeper, harder, taking huge gulps now, almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>drinking </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tarn. The tank had entirely too much in his repro-tanks. Pharma thought he would drown in it, but with a small note of pride he noticed none of it was escaping. His tanks felt like they were filling up under the sheer deluge, and Tarn’s spike wasn’t getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>any softer.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma whined, a little desperately, still gulping and swallowing. Was he just stuck here, swallowing transfluid until he couldn’t anymore? Was that the catch?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor,” Tarn purred, voice heavy with lust. It made Pharma moan so loudly he was sure someone outside could hear it. “Keep swallowing, that’s it…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, the tide ebbed, but Tarn’s spike was still hard. Pharma started to pull off, but Tarn’s hand kept him firm, stuck. Pharma froze, unsure of what to do. Was he meant to keep sucking him off? Was he just supposed to stay here like a spikewarmer?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another surprise spurt caught him off guard and he jumped, quickly swallowing it. But that seemed to be it, until a few moments later another gush filled his mouth. And then, it was over, at least for now… Pharma waited, patiently. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sure enough, another spurt. He was starting to understand what was expected of him. Tarn had never done </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>before. Perhaps he had some kind of new mod? He wanted to think about it but then Tarn started </span>
  <em>
    <span>humming,</span>
  </em>
  <span> driving him to the edge almost immediately and keeping him there. While Pharma was busy moaning and squirming for stimulation, kept on the razor’s edge for what felt like hours, his mouth filled up nearly halfway, and he quickly swallowed what was in there. Ah, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>was Tarn’s game. Keep him delirious with pleasure, but only to see if he could keep up with choking down all of Tarn’s transfluid. His tanks pinged as 60% full. But he thought Tarn’s spike might’ve been a little softer. Another shot jetted into his mouth and before he could swallow Tarn pulled him off with a sigh. A final spurt spattered onto his mouth and cheeks, marking him, and he felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>filthy </span>
  </em>
  <span>for it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He just panted, unsure, waiting. Tarn hummed again, but the hooks weren’t back. “You look </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful </span>
  </em>
  <span>like this, Doctor,” he cooed, and Pharma could hear his spike depressurizing. “Won’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>keep </span>
  </em>
  <span>that on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>for me?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma scowled behind his blindfold. “Damn you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn just chuckled softly. “On your </span>
  <em>
    <span>back,</span>
  </em>
  <span> please.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma didn’t comply. So Tarn got up and picked him up, placing him on the sofa like a doll with his hips leaned forwards all the way to the edge of the couch. Then Tarn was back on his knees in front of Pharma, fingers exploring around Pharma’s node. The jet gasped, arching his back and his mouth hanging open. Then Tarn’s fingers were in him, pumping and scissoring, and he couldn’t keep quiet anymore, forgetting all about the humiliating feeling of Tarn’s sticky transfluid cooling on his face. “Tarn, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he cried, writhing. His wings flapped pitifully, his whole frame rattling, and he just couldn’t stand the </span>
  <em>
    <span>teasing </span>
  </em>
  <span>anymore. Tarn was humming a song now, rather than idle notes, humming along to the record playing. Pharma outright sobbed as a small overload pulsed through him that didn’t do a damn thing. </span>
  <b>
    <em>“Please,</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Tarn, I’m </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>begging </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>you-!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh, shh,” Tarn murmured, taking his hand away. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>alright,</span>
  </em>
  <span> little jet.” He must’ve been rifling around in his subspace, because the next thing Pharma knew, a false spike was rubbing up between his valve lips, teasing at his hole, slicking around in the wetness. Pharma sobbed, grinding his hips down into it, hiccuping. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tarn,” he wailed, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the tank’s treaded shoulders. He barely recognized he was chanting it like a mantra, “... </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tarn, Tarn, Tarn, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Tarn-!” </em>
  </b>
  <span>The jet squealed as Tarn shoved the false spike into his hole in one go, stretching him out. He could feel Tarn’s face dip between his thighs, feel him breathe out over the rim of Pharma’s valve opening. Pharma could feel him admiring the way Pharma’s hole clenched and pulsed around the spike, as the jet moaned and lost his patience. He started bouncing up and down on it, but Tarn quickly put a hand on his belly, stilling him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>fuck me already,</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> you miserable excuse for a grounder!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma screamed, in the back of his mind disturbed at his own eagerness. “Primus, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please!</span>
  </em>
  <span> If this is one of your </span>
  <em>
    <span>tortures--”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn just</span>
  <em>
    <span> laughed.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And then he started pistoning the false spike in and out so </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast and hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma saw stars, as the jet shrieked and cried and wailed. Oh, it was stretching him on each pass, in and out, hammering his ceiling node too… He rode it for all he was worth, and combined with Tarn’s humming he lasted </span>
  <em>
    <span>embarrassingly </span>
  </em>
  <span>shortly, valve stuttering and then clenching and </span>
  <em>
    <span>throbbing </span>
  </em>
  <span>around the false spike, spurting and drooling lubricant. The heat building in his gut released with a tsunami of coolness in his lines, a heady rush. When he was done, he slouched, panting so hard he could feel his vents ebb and flare. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn slid the false spike out of him. Pharma felt empty, achingly so, and slurred a question that would’ve horrified him under any other circumstance. “Why won’t you fuck me with your spike?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Doctor,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn cooed, petting his jaw. “How</span>
  <em>
    <span> sweet.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want it?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma considered saying “no.” But Primus, he did, and he was tired of pretending he didn’t. So he just nodded, panting, desperately. Tarn hummed and apparently put the false spike away, because he was picking up his mask and then reattaching it, taking off Pharma’s blindfold. He leaned down close, too close.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>to hear you </span>
  <em>
    <span>say it,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he murmured. “After all, I’d like you to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you know. How about we discuss it </span>
  <em>
    <span>next time?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma didn’t argue, exhausted. Tarn helped him up onto shaky legs and surprised him by wiping off his thighs with rag, then subspacing it. “Come then, Doctor. I suppose we’ll see about getting you back to Delphi.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma just followed him out of the office, passing Kaon and Helex from where they were playing cards in the rec room. Helex locked eyes with him and laughed, an ugly, cruel laugh, and made a crude gesture. Then he rolled his eyes up and made a </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusting</span>
  </em>
  <span> o-face, mocking, high whimpers leaving him. Pharma flushed so hard he thought he might pass out, nearly choking on the disgust welling up in him. He just hurried after Tarn, keeping close to him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why the hell am I going to him for safety?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He had only a moment to think, before Tarn’s hand wrapped over his shoulders and squeezed, fingers playing with one of his ailerons. They reached the door, and Tarn opened it…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>… to a swirling, whiteout blizzard. Pharma drooped. He’d have to fly home in </span>
  <em>
    <span>that?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dear,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn tutted. “How </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It </span>
  <em>
    <span>seems </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’ll have to… </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay the night,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No, no, no. That was worse. That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>much </span>
  </em>
  <span>worse. “I can manage it,” Pharma offered quickly, ailerons twitching. “You’ve had me fly through worse.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Only for</span>
  <em>
    <span> t-cogs,</span>
  </em>
  <span> dear Doctor,” Tarn tsked, shaking his head as his optics shuttered. “No, we </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>have you flying home in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>middle of the night</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>blizzard.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Imagine if something </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened </span>
  </em>
  <span>to you!” Tarn leaned down, murmuring in his ear. “My bed is </span>
  <em>
    <span>big enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> for two. I’ve been told I’m quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm</span>
  </em>
  <span> to sleep next to, Doctor.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma was going to be in for a long night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As Pharma realizes that Tarn is in love with him, he makes a second, even more disturbing discovery.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warnings: this whole story is full of dubious consent, physical and psychological abuse, and psychological manipulation.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>"Valentine is done/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Here but now they're gone/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Romeo and Juliet/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Are together in eternity, (Romeo and Juliet)/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>40, 000 men and women everyday, (Like Romeo and Juliet)/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>40, 000 men and women everyday, (Redefine happiness)/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Another 40, 000 coming everyday, (We can be like they are)/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Come on baby, (don't fear the reaper)/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby take my hand, (don't fear the reaper)/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We'll be able to fly, (don't fear the reaper)/</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Baby I'm your man"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>----------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn awoke slowly the next morning. He'd gone to sleep after Pharma had, holding the jet close to his chest and crooning to him to lull him to sleep. Pharma had fought it at first -- and it was so irresistible when he fought back like that -- but eventually, inexorably, his optics had drifted closed, his breathing evening out. After making sure Pharma was asleep, Tarn had taken his mask off for the night, spark quivering with nerves. One day, he'd take it off for Pharma. One day, he'd leave Pharma with his eyes bared for Tarn's face. One day, he'd </span>
  <em>
    <span>kiss Pharma.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn hummed at the thought, closing his eyes peacefully, and the jet in his arms whimpered, squirming. Then he whined again in his sleep and twisted around to tuck his arms to his chest and burrow into Tarn's own chest, sighing softly. He was so much thinner, so much more delicate. The commander stroked Pharma's helm. He knew Kaon was jealous of his affections for the jet. And he knew Helex was hard on Pharma -- walking past the both of them with transfluid spattered on his lips probably hadn't helped matters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn sighed through his nose at the thought of Pharma sucking down everything he had to offer yesterday, slurping down load after load shot into his wet, hot, waiting mouth. The tank's engine revved at the thought and he let his mouth drift open as his eyes closed, relishing in the remembered sensation. He hadn't wanted Pharma to go too far down -- after all, he still had a surprise in store for when he finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> take Pharma's valve. Hearing the jet beg for it yesterday, unprompted -- the plaintive cry, the pleasure-drunk plea… it was enough to make Tarn want to keep him and never let go of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But -- maybe he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> still delight in being a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> sadistic with Pharma, because he wasn't going to give in to his baser instincts until he had Pharma on his hands and knees, loudly prostrating himself at Tarn's feet for the tank's spike. And he knew he could do it, too -- it would just take a little more work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For right now, he just leaned to kiss the side of Pharma's helm, murmuring to the jet. The Delphi CMO looked disturbed, anxious, perturbed in his sleep. So Tarn modulated his voice to Pharma's spark and brought him back down, soothing him, lulling him again. The DJD commander had honestly become quite accustomed to having sparks in his hands, able to snuff them with just a few sentences or hummed bars. But Pharma's spark… Tarn treasured it, petted it, adored it. He'd come to enjoy the way it pattered and flared.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At first, he thought it was bloodlust -- the excitement he felt rending Pharma's plating was certainly addicting. But then he discovered just how lovely it was to hear the jet's spark thunder in overload, or flutter feverishly just teetering on the edge thereof, and slowly it had </span>
  <em>
    <span>consumed</span>
  </em>
  <span> his fascination until he could care less about the screech of Pharma's wing tearing in two. He could pry much </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweeter </span>
  </em>
  <span>screams from the jet, anyways.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span><strong>"Please,</strong> Tarn!"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma had sobbed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>for him,</span>
  </em>
  <span> yesterday. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Please, Tarn, I'm <strong>begging</strong> you!"</span>
  </em>
  <span> He'd wailed, so sweetly, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>needily.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As if </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tarn himself</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the only thing in the world that mattered to him in that moment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a tantalizing thought. Tarn filed it away for further consideration… after all, Delphi wasn't his only source of t-cogs. He could stand to lose it. In his arms, Pharma mumbled in his sleep. The DJD had a day off today -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>labor rights was the nascence of Lord Megatron's movement, Tarn took them very seriously</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- and Tarn was going to milk it for all he could. Having a sleepy morning with Pharma…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn sighed blissfully, sinking back down into the pillows. He closed his eyes, intending to just reminisce about their rendezvous yesterday, but he found himself getting sleepy. Well, Pharma was fast asleep. A little light dozing wouldn't hurt. He could wake up in a few moments and put his mask back on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn drifted back off to Pharma making a little noise and snuggling into him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-------------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma woke with a start when he realized that, for starters, he was actually, </span>
  <em>
    <span>truly </span>
  </em>
  <span>warm and comfortable for the first time since getting to Delphi, and two, that there was a big arm over his midsection. And third, there was a massive chassis in front of him, Decepticon purple and smelling like fine wax.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tentatively craned his head up, not knowing what he'd see. Whatever it was that he was expecting, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn't </span>
  </em>
  <span>a maskless Tarn, peacefully sleeping with his lips just barely parted. Pharma caught himself thinking they looked soft, and panicked, vents flaring. No, no, no. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn't </span>
  </em>
  <span>be thinking like that. Last night had been a fluke -- any overloads or moaning or begging had </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> been because Tarn dragged him through the pleasure feet-first. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn't</span>
  </em>
  <span> find the tank attractive -- he found him </span>
  <em>
    <span>beastly</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>repulsive</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn't want to lean down and kiss Tarn, feel those soft lips against his. Map his way up the scar on Tarn's face, covering his eye.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma was so wrapped up in repressing the desire to kiss his captor that the fact that Tarn was so nakedly vulnerable -- maskless -- around him had to be bad, bad news. Pharma felt his spark start pounding again, and Tarn stirred. Immediately Pharma lay down and ducked his head into Tarn's chest, squeezing his eyes shut.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Tarn didn't appear to wake up -- he just hummed in his half-sleep, Pharma's spark forcibly slowing down, </span>
  <em>
    <span>down…</span>
  </em>
  <span> it had that terrifyingly placating effect. The worst thing about it, by far, was that Pharma had started to </span>
  <em>
    <span>depend on it</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he panicked in the DJD commander’s presence. He knew that if he panicked too hard, Tarn would inevitably hum, or coo, or just </span>
  <b>
    <em>thrum,</em>
  </b>
  <span> deep in his chassis, his voice so soft and </span>
  <em>
    <span>deep </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was more like a rumble of his engine. And Pharma’s spark would </span>
  <em>
    <span>freefall,</span>
  </em>
  <span> only to be caught up in Tarn’s palms as he supported it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma turned away, flipping onto his other side to bury his face in his hands. Despite Tarn’s best half-asleep efforts, Pharma’s spark was whirling out of control, spiraling and pounding like it was about to explode out of his chest. What was he </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing?</span>
  </em>
  <span> How had things gotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>so far?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He choked back a sob, diving for the pillow at his cheek to muffle it. He could feel his body jerk, and another one wracked his body involuntarily as panic and confusion and horror and disgust and whatever lasting remnants he had left of his pride and dignity swirled around, threatening to carry him away on their tide. He fought back a sudden, unexpected, hysterical giggle, and half sobbed, half chortled into the pillow, tears streaming down his face even as he weep-laughed uncontrollably. He was trying to be quiet, but he felt Tarn stir behind him, which only set him off even more, an edge of mindless panic to his noises. Tarn’s field blanketed him like a cool balm on a burn wound, and the tankformer leaned down, his nose brushing Pharma’s audial as he </span>
  <b>
    <em>hummed.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma felt his sparkrate dropping again, and outright </span>
  <em>
    <span>sobbed </span>
  </em>
  <span>with relief, gratitude wordless in his voice. Tarn, still humming, kissed Pharma’s audial, and pulled the jet back against himself, claws working soothing little circles into Pharma’s joints -- and for the first time, Pharma </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>afraid he was going to start ripping something. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That, in itself, was </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrifying.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Because while he had long laughed to himself as </span>
  <em>
    <span>ridiculous </span>
  </em>
  <span>the very </span>
  <em>
    <span>notion </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Tarn, the DJD’s commander, fancied him as more than a toy, a plaything to get his regular source of t-cogs from, the idea that Tarn could be harboring deeper affections for him was enough to frighten the life out of Pharma, utterly. It filled him with a sort of mind-numbing horror that could only be found when one distilled the very emotion of fear itself and stuck it behind a Decepticon mask, and put it in charge of an elite Decepticon squad.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He could deal with it when he knew that Tarn only manipulated him like this to get a reaction out of him -- for Tarn’s own twisted enjoyment. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>this?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn being deeply, obviously infatuated with him? In view of all his comrades, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so blatantly</span>
  </em>
  <span> with Pharma? Pharma would’ve preferred being smelted down alive in Helex’s furnace, in that moment. Because the doctor knew this could go one of three ways.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One, Tarn would suddenly return to his senses one day, cut his losses, and burn Delphi to the ground only </span>
  <em>
    <span>after </span>
  </em>
  <span>stringing Pharma up on sticks in front of it like the world’s most accomplished medic flag. Knowing the level of his infatuation, he’d probably treat it </span>
  <em>
    <span>romantically,</span>
  </em>
  <span> too. As if he wouldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>elbow deep in Pharma’s guts.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Two, his comrades realizing Tarn’s sickness and deciding to </span>
  <em>
    <span>purge </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pharma for him, thinking he could simply move on from Pharma after the jet was immediately removed. And, judging by the sheer venom with which Kaon looked at him when he was by Tarn’s side, </span>
  <em>
    <span>they </span>
  </em>
  <span>wouldn’t be as </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind </span>
  </em>
  <span>as the </span>
  <em>
    <span>commander </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be in </span>
  <em>
    <span>dispatching </span>
  </em>
  <span>him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em><span>Or, three,</span></em><span> Pharma thought, his sobs trailing away in frozen horror as Tarn purred and cooed, hand rubbing gently over his side,</span><em><span> he may simply decide to keep me, and never let me go.</span></em> <em><span>Worse,</span></em><span> he mused numbly, feeling his body lean into the touch without his approval of its own volition, </span><em><span>I might decide that that’s the most preferable.</span></em><span> Originally, he had been terrified that if Tarn kept him, the tank would just lock him aboard the Peaceful Tyranny, shackle him to the wall, keep a shock collar around his throat, perhaps. But now, as Tarn soothed his hurts and comforted him like a lover would, he realized that there </span><em><span>was,</span></em><span> in fact, </span><em><span>a worse option.</span></em><span> And he was aft-first in it.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>matter,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor?” Tarn murmured, nibbling at his audial. “What’s the reason for all this fuss?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma shook his head, breaths still shuddering from his hysteria. Even if he had the words for the hole that had just gotten blasted through his chest, he knew he couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>let Tarn know them. He instead just flipped around and buried his face in Tarn’s chest, knowing he was only making his predicament worse. To indulge in Tarn was like putting a foot on a tufted cliffside in the rain -- the land could give out at any moment and leave one tumbling down a sheer drop into waist-deep mud. The jetformer was in the mud all the way up to his shoulders, arms reaching above him for a lifeline.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma had been so wrapped up in his horrible revelation that he hadn’t even realized Tarn had tensed, stiff against him now that Pharma was facing him. Curious, face still wet from his tears, the jet started to look up, question forming on his lips. Tarn growled in warning, a razor’s edge to Pharma’s spark -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>rumbled, really</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- and a hand came down to cover the jet’s eyes, pushing his head back down. He must still have his mask off, Pharma realized dully. And with rising fear, Pharma realized that he had done the ultimate sin just earlier this morning -- he’d gazed upon the tankformer with his mask off. His tanks roiled. Should he pretend he didn’t? Perhaps Tarn already knew. Pharma should confess. Perhaps Tarn would go easier on him if he confessed. But if Tarn didn’t know, the medjet would just be telling him, and that couldn’t end well.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve seen it,” He blurted, uncontrollably, immediately cursing himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn was deathly quiet. “What?” he asked, softly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“T-this m-morning,” Pharma managed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>knowing </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d stepped in it. “Y-you were asleep, and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>looked up because I thought you slept with your mask on, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>swear,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never --”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn rolled over top of him, arms caging him in, and Pharma squeezed his eyes shut, sobbing. “Please, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>promise,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I would never-! Please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please don’t-!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He felt Tarn lean down and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wept,</span>
  </em>
  <span> with his whole body, because he was sure this was it. Instead, he felt something… soft against the corner of his mouth, pressing gently. As Pharma’s fresh tears dripped down the sides of his face, and he hiccuped, that soft press was back, over Pharma’s lips this time. Belatedly, the doctor realized that Tarn was </span>
  <em>
    <span>kissing him.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The tankformer molded his lips to Pharma’s, and then pulled away just slightly, resealing them together. The jet hiccuped into the kiss again and found himself reciprocating, moving his lips against Tarn’s in a gentle, slow dance. Pharma opened his mouth in the kisses first, Tarn quickly following suit, their tonguetips gently peeking forwards to caress and investigate. Pharma risked cracking open his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn’s own eyes were closed, gently, and his head was tilted to the side as he drew Pharma’s tongue out of his mouth to suck it, gently, tantalizingly. His face was a soft, warm gray, flushed at the cheeks (or, unmarred cheek.) The left side of his face was covered in a brutal scar revealing the delicate inner machinery of his face, reaching up to his browcrest in long scratches. Pharma’s eyes rolled back as Tarn gently, insistently pushed his tongue forwards into Pharma’s mouth, exploring a slow, sure path. The jet was helpless to do anything but smooth his own tongue along the underside of Tarn’s, as if he was sucking spike again. It was only when the medjet realized his spark wasn’t beating as fast as it normally would be, getting kissed silly like this, when he realized Tarn was humming into the kiss, rumbling. And then Pharma realized his sparkrate was dropping, further than it usually did, concerningly low. Tarn was deciding to cut his losses, after all, and worst of all it was going to be a quick, gentle death. Pharma broke off the kiss. “T-tarn, he pleaded, breathlessly. “Tarn, please, please, please don’t --” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn just kept humming, burying his face into the crook of Pharma’s throat and chuckling. Just from the point where Pharma’s spark would start shrinking unrecoverably, Tarn brought it back up in a rush, making a small overload judder through the doctor’s systems. The medjet realized… this was a game, to Tarn. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>playing </span>
  </em>
  <span>with Pharma.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All the jet could do was pant and whimper, absolutely helpless to struggle against the tank’s whims. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Doctor,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I was planning to </span>
  <em>
    <span>unmask</span>
  </em>
  <span> around you on </span>
  <em>
    <span>purpose,</span>
  </em>
  <span> soon,” Tarn purred, nuzzling into his throat. “You ruined my </span>
  <em>
    <span>surprise.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Let’s hope you don’t ruin the </span>
  <em>
    <span>next one,</span>
  </em>
  <span> hm?” And with that, he dipped lower, lips dragging softly over Pharma’s cockpit glass. The jet just arched into it, breaths soft, and then Tarn scraped a fang over the glass. By the time Pharma could squeak, Tarn had already moved between Pharma’s legs, mouth on the jet’s valve panel like he was trying to coax it open without his hands.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma shuddered a breath again. “Please, not there,” he whispered, begging. He didn’t know why -- Tarn had certainly had a mastery over his valve before. He thought back to the endless fingerings, the set of false spikes Tarn had sent him with the instructions to work himself up to the largest (about the size of Tarn’s spike), and then the extra false spike he received, larger than he could physically take, the only instruction being “enjoy.” Pharma hadn’t known what Tarn had wanted with that -- so he’d gone and gotten a capacity expander to be sure he wasn’t ripped open the next time Tarn got it into his head to </span>
  <em>
    <span>play.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That had been decades ago.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And on top of that, the deprivation Tarn had enacted, shortly after starting to sleep with Pharma, was </span>
  <em>
    <span>torturous.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn had sworn off lovers on Pharma’s behalf, knowing that he sometimes used some of the miners nearby for a quick fuck. Well, Tarn had put a stop to that </span>
  <em>
    <span>quicksmart </span>
  </em>
  <span>by leaving one of Pharma’s miners in his office, strung up on his window-wall, with the mech’s surgically-removed spike in a box on Pharma’s desk with the note, “No more substandard trysts. Only the best for you, Pharma.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And when Pharma had fucked himself with the false spike that was Tarn’s size, and moaned out a fellow doctor’s name who was miles upon miles away -- someone he had known in medical school because he couldn’t bear to think about who he was actually craving, deep inside of him? The next time he’d delivered Tarn his t-cogs, Tarn had invited him into his office for a drink and Pharma had had to stare down that doctor’s severed head on Tarn’s desk. Tarn had folded him over that selfsame desk that day, nose-to-nose with the severed head, and fucked him senseless with a false spike so thick it had had him drooling onto the desktop. The message was crystal clear. Nobody but Tarn could or would have access to the inside of Pharma’s valve, or anywhere else on him besides.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn’s tongue was on his node. When had his panels flown open? The tankformer was currently suckling it, lewd noises coming from his ministrations. Pharma just clapped his hands over his mouth, huffing and moaning through his fingers. It felt entirely too good. And then Tarn was fingering him as well, three fingers inside of his valve, playing with delicate nodes at the front of his valve, further inside. It felt like he was stimulating Pharma’s anterior node from the inside out and the jet wailed through his fingers, hands flying away from his mouth to claw at the bedsheets desperately. “Tarn, please!” he howled, not caring anymore. “Your spike!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn just laughed, softly, into Pharma’s valve lips… and kept doing exactly what he was doing. The doctor realized with dismay that he wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>getting </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tarn’s spike if the tankformer had anything to say about it, at least, not now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” begged, hoping that if he could just beg well enough, hard enough, Tarn would take pity on him. “Please, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to feel you inside of me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You have my </span>
  <em>
    <span>gifts,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn murmured, humming. Pharma gasped wantonly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“We both know</span>
  </em>
  <span> what the largest one I gave you is modeled after, hm?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not the same,” Pharma begged. It’d been so long since he had a hot, throbbing spike from a real live mech inside of him that the thought was sending him spiraling up into his redline. “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not the same!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Patience,</span>
  </em>
  <span> doctor,” Tarn purred, fingers squelching quickly in Pharma’s lubricant. “In due time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma pushed aside his disgust at how quickly Tarn managed to reduce him to screaming and crying in pleasure rather than pain, and how he was starting not to care anymore. Not when Tarn was touching him from the inside out, teasing at the root of his anterior node while his tongue flicked up under the hood of it. Pharma could feel the pressure building in his core, fissions of pleasure spreading and tensing like fingers kneading at a pillow before it all released, with gentle pulsing and clutching inside even as his body shook and trembled, rigid, all joints locked tight. He was able to keep quiet for the first few seconds, but as Tarn kept playing with the hood of his anterior node, kept stimulating his g-spot, it was all he could do to throw his head back and gasp, moaning and panting and whimpering, writhing into -- or away from? He wasn’t sure anymore -- the sensation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally,</span>
  <em>
    <span> finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn let up, pulling away as he licked his chops and removed his fingers, wiping them on the bedcovers. “What a lovely morning,” he cooed, and slid back up over Pharma’s body to kiss the jet. Pharma could taste himself on Tarn’s lips and it was intoxicating, heady, addicting. After a long, passionate kiss, Tarn pulled away for real, laying back down on his side and facing Pharma. The jet panted, checking his chronometer. It was late morning, and he had messages from both Ambulon and First Aid, both of them asking where he was and was he alright.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sat bolt upright, in a sudden cold sweat. “Delphi,” he said, panicked. “I’ve been gone for </span>
  <em>
    <span>hours,</span>
  </em>
  <span> after a blizzard-! I… I need to leave!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tarn was quiet for a moment. Pharma was briefly terrified that today was going to be the day that Tarn was going to drag him back to bed for a slow, languid morning, lock the doors, and put Delphi to the ship’s rear thrusters, never to return. But the tank just sighed, and sat up, putting his mask back on, and standing, helping Pharma out of bed. Pharma felt himself in a daze as Tarn led him out of the headquarters, onto the launchpad, in the clear cold air, and pressed his mask to the jet’s cheek, humming one final time. “See you in </span>
  <em>
    <span>two weeks,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor,” he cooed. “Oh -- and </span>
  <em>
    <span>one more thing.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma’s spark plummeted of its own accord. Surely Tarn wouldn’t be raising the quota. He couldn’t. Pharma would die.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The t-cog quota,” he murmured, and Pharma’s knees grew weak, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“has gone down.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m not in need of as many this time. Five less will do.” He patted Pharma’s shoulder and stood back up. “Farewell, Doctor.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma, dazed, in a stupor, stumbled into his altmode and shakily took off, arcing into the sky. He reached Delphi again, its coldness already seeping into his joints to banish the comfortable warmth he’d been in at Headquarters, and hit the landing pad, transforming to storm back inside. He made it to the door of his office before First Aid saw him and cried out, rushing over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pharma!” he shouted, visor bright. “Are you alright? We were so worried about you with that blizzard…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Er, yes,” Pharma squirmed, hand on his door. “I was fine. I simply had to take shelter for the night. Thank you for your concern. Now if you don’t mind, I have some work to do.” Not waiting for First Aid’s response, he went into his office and closed the door, gently resting back against it and letting himself slide down, facing the window on the far wall of his office behind his desk. He let himself pant and wheeze, relief coursing through him at the same time a horrible, sickly sort of dread was. Tarn was decreasing the quota. While it appeared to be a blessing, Pharma knew far better. This was a curse in disguise. Tarn kept him around for two reasons: t-cogs, and Pharma’s own company. And now the t-cogs were becoming secondary. Which left Pharma stuck between options 1, 2, and 3. And judging by the way that Tarn had told him to have patience when Pharma had pleaded for his spike</span>
  <em>
    <span> in a moment of weakness,</span>
  </em>
  <span> options 2 and 3 were far more likely -- option 3 most of all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pharma chewed on his fingertips, hunched over on the floor with his back against the door panel. This was unacceptable. He’d spent so much time thinking about how Tarn’s preoccupation with him was clearly clouding the tank’s judgement, he hadn’t even stopped to consider that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself </span>
  </em>
  <span>may be compromised beyond recovery. This was bad… this was very bad. He needed out,</span>
  <em>
    <span> immediately, </span>
  </em>
  <span>before he was lost beyond all hope of retrieval. But he couldn’t simply ask for a transfer now, or abandon the facility -- that would raise far too many questions, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>abandoning </span>
  </em>
  <span>the facility would leave him nowhere to go but back into Tarn’s arms, and that was the last place he wanted to go. He knew he would be faulted for failing to whip Delphi into shape because the superiors who placed him here simply wanted to pass the buck. But he didn’t care. They could sanction him if they knew the truth, bring him before a tribunal, possibly execute him. He ignored the voice snidely saying that he was partially upset about that because he’d never see Tarn again by biting into his lip so hard that it split, fuschia energon spilling down his lower lip.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What could he do, what could he do, what could he do? He was well and truly stuck. How had he never bothered to come up with an extraction plan before this? Cursing himself, Pharma got up and began to pace, muttering to himself like a madman. He had a vague idea for how to do this, but it would be tricky. Everything would have to work in its proper order. If Delphi suddenly had an uncharted pathogen rip through its ranks, High Command would be forced to swoop in and shut it down, moving Pharma far, far away. It might even lessen the blow of stigma against him. After all, he was a world-class surgeon, not an epidemiologist. He’d warned High Command how unprepared Delphi was for an epidemic previously, as well. They’d brushed him aside, because this was a miner’s outpost on Messatine, not worth it. Pharma felt himself grinning uncontrollably, muttering to himself. Well, he’d just have to make it worth it. Now how to spread it? Not through the vents, certainly. He would be infected, as well. And he couldn’t simply inoculate himself against it beforehand, or that would raise far too many questions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He felt his spark spiral, pounding, and desperately wished for the sound of Tarn’s voice to calm him, hating that he did. Had he truly grown so dependent on that gentle voice?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In spite of his dismay, an idea began to pluck at Pharma. Sound… he hummed in thought, softly. The CR chambers were soundproof -- all he had to do was lock himself inside and he would be free and clear. He felt the grin return to his face as he giggled, hysterically. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had an idea for how to get out of this.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After Delphi, Pharma has nobody left to turn to but the very person he was trying to escape from. Tarn rewards Pharma turning to him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This whole story is full of dubcon, psychological manipulation and abuse, and implied physical abuse. This chapter also contains knotting that's a surprise to the person being knotted.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Love of two is one/</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Here but now they're gone/</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Came the last night of sadness/</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And it was clear he couldn't go on/</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Then the door was open and the wind appeared/</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The candles blew then disappeared/</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The curtains flew then he appeared, (saying don't be afraid)/</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Come on baby, (and he had no fear)/</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And he ran to him, (then they started to fly)/</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They looked backward and said goodbye, (he had become like they are)/</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He had taken his hand, (he had become like they are)/</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Come on baby, don't fear the reaper/</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>--------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Delphi: Later.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pharma lay, quivering, with his left wing half-buried in the snow. The coolants, the dispersants, and the anti-rusting agents around his t-cog had all started mixing the second he’d changed shape, leaving him corroding from the inside out -- a victim of his own genius. He changed back to root mode, tasting his optics in the back of his mouth, and wailed at the loss of his hands. Was </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>how he was going to die? Unceremoniously, </span>
  <em>
    <span>unsuccessfully </span>
  </em>
  <span>attempting an escape from Tarn? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The snow was so cold against his feverish body. His internals were attacking the rust like they were supposed to, as it bled orange-red into the snow around him like a drop of ink into water. His body attacked the rust but had no hope of keeping up, of course it didn’t, because Pharma had designed it to make sure it wouldn’t. Which left him here, shivering, drowning in rust and fever, crying rust from his optics. The eleventh hour had come and gone, and Pharma’s plan was a decisive failure. And as he saw the Autobot MARBs take off into the distance, away from Delphi, he knew that no help was coming for him. He would rust into stasis, and then he would freeze, and then he would offline, either from the rust or the cold, whichever got to him first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Losing all hope, utterly, completely, Pharma finally threw away the last of his pride and self-preservation. He activated his commlinks. “Tarn,” he croaked, softly. “Tarn, I n-n-need h-help…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn’s voice was in his ear immediately, soothing. “What seems to be the </span>
  <em>
    <span>matter, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Doctor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Plague…” Pharma croaked. “At Delphi. Infected… dying… out in the snow. Can send antidote… s-s-synthe-size it and </span>
  <em>
    <span>s-save me, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>p-please-!”</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn was very quiet. “I see,” he murmured, and then he hummed soothingly, lowering Pharma’s sparkrate. In spite of the calming attempt, or because of it, really, Pharma panicked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N-no no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he shouted, gurgling. “Need s-sparkrate </span>
  <em>
    <span>up,</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to keep it </span>
  <em>
    <span>up…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn immediately adjusted, and Pharma breathed a sigh of relief, melting into the red snow. He sent off the antidote recipe to the forbidden commlink and fought the urge to pass out, knowing he had to remain conscious. “I’m going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>come get you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma,” Tarn murmured, softly. “You’re safe with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma wheezed, energon from his wrist stumps trickling slowly into the red snow, mixing pink into the canvas. “I-if you t-touch me, you’ll b-be infected, too,” he croaked. “M-make </span>
  <em>
    <span>t-two</span>
  </em>
  <span> doses.” Why was he giving Tarn instructions to stay alive? What the hell was he doing? “P-please… I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>s-so cold…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cold, hm?” Tarn sighed. “You’ll be alright. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>promise,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘K-kay…” Pharma slurred, wheezing. He gurgled again as rust seeped into his vents, bubbling in his breaths, and he coughed. “H-hurry…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shh, shh…” Tarn hushed, softly, soothing him, and he hummed again, bolstering Pharma’s sparkrate. The jet floated in oblivion, the discomfort from the freezing snow floating away, and only the fever remaining, carried entirely on Tarn’s voice. He shook himself as awake as he could when he heard footsteps approaching -- why footsteps? Why not tank treads? Surely that was more efficient -- and someone gently picked him up, cradling his shoulders and his hips. Their chest felt different, smoother, and Pharma struggled to see through the rust-red haze, wheezing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chest compartment opened, and he was gently placed inside, the glass sealing over and blocking out the sound except for Pharma’s ragged breaths. Confused, hazy, half-offline, Pharma pressed his wrists to the glass. Was he in some kind of quarantine box? It was only when the floor of the box and the wall behind him began to heat up that he realized with a dawning horror where exactly he was. “N-no,” he breathed, and then surged against the glass, banging, leaving smudges of red and crumbles of his own wrists and arms. One of his arms fell off at the elbow. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“No, please!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma screamed, pleading with Helex as the bot turned away from the rust bloom in the snow and started to walk. “P-please, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>already d-dying,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you don’t n-n-need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>smelt me!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Please, pl-!” Pharma choked on the rust in his throat and hacked and coughed, sobbing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quiet in there,” Helex growled, knocking on the glass. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>said </span>
  </em>
  <span>you were cold, eh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I s-s-said I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>c-cold,</span>
  </em>
  <span> not to </span>
  <em>
    <span>melt me!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma screeched, dragging his wrist stump against the glass. “Let me o-out! I’d rather </span>
  <em>
    <span>r-r-rust to death!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>going </span>
  </em>
  <span>to melt you, you melodramatic little </span>
  <em>
    <span>shrew,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Helex muttered, grumbling. “Vosians.” Grumbling some more, he forded through the snow, and Pharma’s shivers from the cold subsided as he warmed up, even in spite of the fever chills wracking his body. “Bossman sent </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>to get you so you wouldn’t freeze.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though the heat hadn’t felt like it had gone up from a gentle, radiating warmth, Pharma still didn’t believe him. Tarn radioed in his ear. “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>true,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma,” he said, voice soft. “I sent </span>
  <em>
    <span>Helex</span>
  </em>
  <span> to collect you because I wouldn’t be able to keep you</span>
  <em>
    <span> warm enough. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’ll be here </span>
  <em>
    <span>soon.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma gasped in relief, gurgling rust and shaking so hard he rattled. His chills faded away, leaving him too warm and panting, sprawling. “T-too hot,” he managed, wheezing. “D-did you turn it up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“M-must be the fever,” Pharma coughed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.” Helex wasn’t as chatty as usual. Probably because Pharma was dying. But then he asked the question that Pharma was dreading; “So, if you knew the antidote to this thing, how the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell </span>
  </em>
  <span>is it that Delphi got overrun with this -- ‘rust plague?’”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma briefly considered playing dead. But then he figured Helex might just smelt him down to get rid of his body, and he couldn’t have that. “It’s a long story,” Pharma tried, panting. The chills were coming back, now, and he shivered, coolant trying to bead on his upper lip and forehead. It was mixed with rust.  “I can e-explain l-later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got nothin’ but time,” Helex said. “Comfortable?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was that a threat? Pharma had no clue. Tarn he at least had some measure of being able to predict, but he was far less familiar with any other member of the DJD, and all the interactions with Helex up to this point had been Helex making fun of Pharma for being Tarn’s spikewarmer. He briefly considered spilling everything. He decided against it, because he’d at least like the </span>
  <em>
    <span>opportunity </span>
  </em>
  <span>to make a run for it if they decided to kill him for his escape attempt. “Yes,” he answered, and he was feeling far better. Now it was just the rust eating away at him rather than the cold. “‘M comfortable, yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Helex grumbled. “Boss likes you,” he muttered, sounding like he was admitting something embarrassing. “At first we were worried, but you seem alright for him. And we’d hate to see him mope if you don’t make it. Even Kaon. Kaon’s just gonna have to share.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma was shocked Helex didn’t press the Delphi issue, but he took his blessings as they came. He shifted and felt his knee joint disconnect, the only thing holding his lower leg in the position it had been in rather than falling off completely was the angle he was at. Pharma looked outside of the warm glass, breaths fogging it up, and saw the DJD headquarters looming in the distance. His head swam and he vented raggedly, rust having pooled underneath him in the smelter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“T-tarn told you that you were going to have to get a dose as well, right?” Pharma coughed. What the hell was he doing? Tarn was one thing -- Pharma at least understood why he’d slip up with his tongue and make sure Tarn knew to save his own hide -- but Helex? Was it gratitude? Was he worried Tarn would kill him if Helex got sick on his account? Was he somehow thinking he and Helex had some kind of rapport? No. It wasn’t any of those things, maybe except gratitude.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yu</span>
  <em>
    <span>p.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Helex popped the “p” sound idly, whistling. He didn’t seem bothered by the cold at all, which Pharma supposed made sense. He slid down a little further to cuddle against the glass, and his leg fell off fully. He started to drift off, and tried to fight it, knowing he had to stay awake. But he just couldn’t anymore. He was finally warm, and they were almost to Headquarters, where Tarn had promised him safety. Helex said something, but it barely registered, and then Helex muttered something else. Seconds later, Tarn’s humming was back in his ear, forcibly raising his sparkbeat from the slow, sluggish pulses it had barely been managing. Pharma barely stirred, drifting in a haze. The light around him changed from bright and white to dimmer, and everything was gray and purple. Then the glass he was leaning against opened and he fell into a pair of arms. He got laid on something flat and felt something pinch his neck cabling, the feeling of something entering his fuelstream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You too, big guy,” Someone snapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ew, an arm,” Helex muttered, dropping something on the floor. “Ew, a leg. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ew,</span>
  </em>
  <span> all the </span>
  <em>
    <span>rust!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nickel, you got somethin’ stronger than a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hose?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He </span>
  <em>
    <span>leaked.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m doing a full decontam,” someone announced. “Get over to the quarantine chamber, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t step in the rust,” Helex offered, helpfully. “Docbot said it was contagious by touch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I got that,” Nickel said, and Pharma could feel himself getting better -- the fever was slowly breaking and the rust wasn’t spreading anymore. For the first time since he fell off the roof, he allowed himself to truly relax, exhaling slowly. “This is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>nasty</span>
  </em>
  <span> one! Nothing like any virus I’ve ever seen. Quarantine chamber, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Double-time, soldier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Helex laughed and his huge footsteps moved across the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma finally just let himself drift off into blankness, giving up on struggling to remain conscious. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>---------------------------------</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He onlined slowly, laying on something soft, and someone was holding his hand, stroking it with their clawed thumb. Groaning softly, Pharma cracked open his optics, venting softly -- smoothly -- and relishing in how soft and warm the bedcovers were under him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have you </span>
  <em>
    <span>back with us,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor,” Tarn’s voice murmured next to him, and Pharma could’ve wept with relief. “We were worried for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>moment</span>
  </em>
  <span> you wouldn’t pull through. Of course, Nickel’s nothing if not </span>
  <em>
    <span>good at her job.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Am I at Headquarters?” Pharma rasped, quietly. This room wasn’t entirely familiar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>mobile </span>
  </em>
  <span>one, yes.” Tarn gestured around. “Welcome to our </span>
  <em>
    <span>home away from home.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Peaceful Tyranny.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, the day had finally come. Pharma knew he should be frightened, terrified even, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than sheer, dizzying relief. “How long have I been unconscious?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About </span>
  <em>
    <span>3 weeks.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn leaned forwards to kiss his hand, lips moving against it. He wasn’t wearing his mask! When he spoke next, his voice was devoid of his usual confident, deadly quiet. Instead, it wavered softly. “I… sang to you while you were in stasis.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The idea of Tarn doing something so tender -- and mundane -- made Pharma feel things. He gulped, hard, ailerons fluttering. “I…” He glanced down at where Tarn’s thumb was rubbing his hand. “My hands!” he cried, gaping. “How did you-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn’s voice was back, immediately. He sighed, a little heavy on the melodrama, but that was just Tarn.  “Well, as much as it </span>
  <em>
    <span>pains me</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stray so close to Functionism, all of the medical papers agree that </span>
  <em>
    <span>forged medics</span>
  </em>
  <span> with </span>
  <em>
    <span>forged hands</span>
  </em>
  <span> can tell the difference between constructed hands and forged ones, and we want you operating at your </span>
  <em>
    <span>best.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma felt his throat get tight. “Whose hands are these?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn waved it aside. “He won’t miss them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma abruptly made the decision to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not care.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span> caring, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span> with Delphi, High Command, all of it. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span> trying to save face, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span> fretting, he was going to take his blessings as they came. “I… </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tarn pressed Pharma’s hand to his lips and closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose. “I was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>worried </span>
  </em>
  <span>about you.” The medjet relaxed, sighing, until Tarn asked him the dreaded question. “What happened at </span>
  <em>
    <span>Delphi,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma chewed on his lower lip harshly, stalling. “I --” he started, taking deep breaths. “I was trying to escape.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn’s voice was unreadable, as was his face, but he didn’t take Pharma’s hand away from his cheek, or stop stroking with his thumb. “Is that so?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma tried not to hyperventilate, and squeezed his eyes shut, nodding. “I…” he managed. “I got back to my office, from our last social visit, and I knew I was done for -- I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>care </span>
  </em>
  <span>if High Command faulted me for Delphi failing, I just knew I had to </span>
  <em>
    <span>get out.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma knew he was babbling, and his words were </span>
  <em>
    <span>dangerously </span>
  </em>
  <span>uncalculated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why is that,” Tarn said, flatly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because I was in love with you!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Pharma burst out, a rush hitting his body at the admittance. It was true. As much as he’d tried to pretend it wasn’t, it was true. “I was in love with you and I could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> it happening and it -- it </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified </span>
  </em>
  <span>me, like standing on a cliff without my wings.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Doctor,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn cooed, his voice suddenly gushing with affection. “How </span>
  <em>
    <span>sentimental.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You shouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>flatter me so.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You engineered a virus so deadly you singlehandedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut down Delphi</span>
  </em>
  <span> because you were avoiding your</span>
  <em>
    <span> feelings for me?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tarn tutted, chortling. “I hear Autobots have </span>
  <em>
    <span>psychiatrists </span>
  </em>
  <span>for those kinds of problems, Pharma.” He just leaned forwards, kissing the palm of Pharma’s hand and then down, down, down his arm to his cockpit and up his throat, until he was kissing Pharma on the lips, their tongues immediately tangling in a way that made Pharma see stars. But all too soon, Tarn was pulling back, leaving Pharma chasing after him for a moment with a whimper. The tank licked his lips and helped the jet up from the bed on shaky legs, supporting him all the way to the hallway until Pharma felt like he had his feet under him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Come,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn cooed, a hand wrapping around his wrist. “Come.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma went. Tarn led him down the hall of the ship to some kind of rec-room door, and as he opened it his four comrades and Nickel quieted from where they were seated at the table. The medjet glanced around, confused, and then up at Tarn, waiting for an explanation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kaon pushed a box across the table, looking a little sour. “We…” he started, gritting his teeth. “We’re glad you’re not dead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Even if I had to get hosed off for like an </span>
  <em>
    <span>hour </span>
  </em>
  <span>after you leaked in me,” Helex guffawed. “That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusting,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tesaurus mumbled something, and Nickel snapped at him about not mumbling, but he just turned away, crossing his arms. Vos just hissed something as well, as Pharma approached the table, gently picking up the small box to inspect it. He glanced over at Tarn, raising a brow. “Am I going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>what’s in this box? Because the </span>
  <em>
    <span>last time</span>
  </em>
  <span> you gave me a box with something in it, it was horrible.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A wave of laughter washed over the table, and Tarn chuckled along, nudging Pharma. “We’ll see. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Go ahead.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma opened the box, glancing down at the shining Decepticon badge resting on a soft purple cloth. Shocked, he glanced up, mouth hanging a little ajar, and then down at his own chest, which was bare. “Did you -- take out a piece of my sparkchamber for this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In our defense, it was already falling off,” Nickel stated, holding up a finger. “I just decontaminated it and smelted it down for the badge. It still counts. Tarn insisted.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do I have to make the decision now?” Pharma said, weakly. “This is… a lot to absorb.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn gently picked up the box lid, and closed it, hand draping over Pharma’s own. “No,” he murmured, leaning down to speak against Pharma’s audial. “But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hope </span>
  </em>
  <span>that one day, you’ll put it on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So I’m to be staying here,” Pharma said, leadingly. “I gathered as much. Am I just going to be a stowaway vagabond?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we found you forged medic hands and attached them to you, nursed you back to full health, and gave you a Decepticon badge, </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>so you could hang around like a waif,” Kaon deadpanned, until Vos pinched him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Ow!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn, Vos is</span>
  <em>
    <span> pinching me </span>
  </em>
  <span>again!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are we done with this whole shebang yet?” Helex complained, but he was smiling. Pharma felt… conflicted. He knew he should feel terrified, afraid for his very life, but he barely felt threatened at all. “Because it’s breakfast time and I’m hungry, so… Pharma, welcome to the team, nice to have you and all, let’s eat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn rolled his eyes and everyone immediately clamored to get up from the table, going over to the energon dispensary and filling up their cubes, chattering in line. Pharma, a little dazed, watched them go, until Tarn nudged his back, right below his jet engine. “Well?” he prompted, a small smile on his face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Go on.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“O-oh.” Pharma filed into line behind Vos, feeling all the world like he was in some kind of fever dream. Vos looked over his shoulder and said something, hissing in Primal Vernacular.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Vos</span>
  </em>
  <span> says that you’re about to have an</span>
  <em>
    <span> experience,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tarn chuckled. “Ah, he’s kind of </span>
  <em>
    <span>right.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nuke is in a class </span>
  <em>
    <span>all its own.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Just be careful not to add </span>
  <em>
    <span>too much,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nuke.” Pharma’s brain stalled out. He took a few seconds to process. “Nuke. You mean -- </span>
  <em>
    <span>enriched nucleon?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Chrono-</span>
  </em>
  <span>enriched nucleon,” Kaon corrected, filling up his cube and adding a trickle of the stuff. “Very rare. Only found on Messatine.” He moved aside to let Vos fill up his own cube, and then it was Pharma’s turn. He grabbed one and glanced at the two levers, one being labeled “ENERGON” and the other being labeled “NUKE.” Pharma hesitated, fingers stroking his cube in indecision. He sighed, shrugged, and filled his cube with energon, and added the barest, tiniest few drops of nuke. Tarn directed him to sit down at the table and he did, still further away from everyone there -- he wasn’t comfortable enough for that yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, you never </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell me what the hell happened at Delphi,” Helex said, slurping his fuel curiously. Pharma froze, spark hammering into his throat, erasing any comfort he’d managed to build up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I, er…” he fished, helplessly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was</span>
  <em>
    <span> adorable,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn announced confidently, walking over by Pharma’s right and pulling out a chair there, leaning back in it to sip his fuel. “He engineers a virus so that</span>
  <em>
    <span> Autobot High Command</span>
  </em>
  <span> will shut down Delphi and </span>
  <em>
    <span>move him away,</span>
  </em>
  <span> all because he was in </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> with me. Absolutely precious,” he bragged, and Pharma thought he’d offline for sheer embarrassment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The entire table burst into hoots and jeers, and Kaon looked like he’d smelled something foul. Helex in particular cackled loudly, his smaller set of arms holding his gut while his top two held his fuel. “You were too sweet on him, Tarn!” He howled, tears leaking down his face. “You almost scared him off by being too </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice!</span>
  </em>
  <span> You’re telling me I had your little playtoy leaking rust in my smelter because he got </span>
  <em>
    <span>cold feet?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we lay off the rust jokes?” Pharma complained into his cube.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>vile,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Helex bellowed with laughter. “It was the grossest thing I’d had in me for three months!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you eat </span>
  <em>
    <span>brain modules?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma snipped over his fuel, raising one part of his brow. He hadn’t meant it to come off so mean-sounding -- admittedly, he was trying to banter a little bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“Thank you!”</em>
  </b>
  <span> Nickel shrieked, but the table lit up in uproarious, deafening laughter. Helex just flushed darkly and buried his face in his fuel, slurping again, but Kaon cackled with unbridled schadenfreude. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what,” he sneered, “I think I’m starting to change my mind about this one, Tarn! Maybe he’s not so bad!” After the laughter at Helex’s expense died down, Kaon looked over Pharma’s way. “Actually, I do have a question for you,” he said, idly, swishing his fuel around in his cube. “What’s… the most </span>
  <em>
    <span>difficult </span>
  </em>
  <span>surgery you’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>done?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I once performed a four-way fuel pump replacement where I was one of the donors,” Pharma offered, and the impressed murmurs at the table made him preen a little in spite of himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst </span>
  </em>
  <span>surgery you’ve ever done?” Helex asked, seemingly over his embarrassment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma wrinkled his nose. “Pulling a loaded blaster out of a young cadet’s exhaust port. Hands down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A chorus of delightedly disgusted cries met him, laughter at the edges. The conversation moved on, and Pharma found himself surprised that he could keep up, and that he wasn’t continuously disgusted. As everyone finished their fuel, Helex was the one to lean back and belch loudly, sighing. “Alright, time to get to work,” he sighed, getting up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Work. Pharma had almost forgotten this was the Decepticon Justice Division, and not just a group of amusing drinking buddies. He quailed at the thought of what “work” could be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We actually need your expertise on this one, Doctor,” Tarn murmured in his ear, and then got up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah!” Helex brightened. “Hey, now we don’t have to worry about Nickel bungling t-cog extractions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Asshole!” Nickel spat, throwing her empty cube at him. Helex belly-laughed as he ducked and walked out, whistling as he made it down the hall. Kaon and Vos split off as well, Kaon tossing something over his shoulder about how he was going to keep scanning communications for “that lead on Clemency.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma followed Tarn as beckoned, nerves growing in the pit of his belly. Harvesting t-cogs at Delphi for Tarn was one thing. He’d been trying to keep the facility standing. But now what was he doing? The tankformer led him to a thick cell door and opened it, gesturing inside.  Pharma gagged into his hand, resisting the urge to vomit. Someone melted from the waist-down and lightly shredded was hanging from the wall by wrist shackles. “You want a t-cog from </span>
  <em>
    <span>this?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma snapped, hooking a thumb over at the near-corpse. “I’ll be lucky if I can get a finger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do your best, Doctor.” Tarn patted his shoulder, and there was an edge of menace in his voice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“And</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’ve already located it for you. Chest, right side.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma walked over and investigated, tapping with gentle fingers to see where exactly he’d need to start cutting. By the door, a sterile cart rested. Tarn helpfully wheeled it over by Pharma’s side. The person gasped to life and started to writhe, begging for mercy. Pharma turned off his audials, coolant rising in his throat. He just swallowed it down and sighed through his nose, flicking out his laser scalpel. Steadying one hand just over the portion he needed to cut open, he brought the scalpel close, and began to cut. Just by the way their abdomen flexed, he knew the person was screaming, but he hardened his spark to it. It was them or him, and they weren’t much longer for the world anyways. Taking the square of plating aside, he gently took out the t-cog, detaching it wire by wire. He just left the wires hanging out, discarding the square of plating on the ground. Normally, he’d place it on a sterile surface to wait for reattachment, but he figured it probably didn’t matter if it got put back on anyways. He clamped down on a sudden, hysterical giggle. Oh, if pre-Delphi Pharma could hear himself now!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned around, looking at Tarn expectantly, who just turned slightly sideways and lifted his arm. Pharma sighed, put the t-cog on the cart, and wheeled it over, cutting out a section of Tarn’s plating and setting that aside for reattachment. Then he was carefully transplanting the t-cog, heating the wiresheaths around the wiring to shrink them down. After that, it was back on with the plating, and Pharma unmuted his audials. “There,” he spoke, finally. “All done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn transformed once, twice, a third time, and then back into root mode. “Perfect,” he purred, and then knelt in front of the weepy prisoner, masked face uncomfortably close. “There, doesn’t it feel better having that cog go to a better cause?” he questioned, softly. Pharma felt the hooks again, but they were strange and foreign, like they couldn’t find purchase on his spark and simply slid off. The person strung up, however, cringed away, mouth hanging open to pant. Pharma knew what was happening -- it was all he could do to watch, frozen in horror, as Tarn talked them offline in a matter of seconds. Every once in a while, he got a reminder of just how much power Tarn held over him if he ever wanted to wield it, and it was a sobering reminder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn unhooked the dead person from the restraints, sighing. “Where is -- he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be here by now.” He put two fingers to his audial. “Helex, </span>
  <em>
    <span>where </span>
  </em>
  <span>are you? I have one for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>smelter.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He seemed to wait for a reply, nodding along. “Well, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>get here,</span>
  </em>
  <span> please. Pharma and I have some </span>
  <em>
    <span>business </span>
  </em>
  <span>to attend to. The next person on the List is on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Clemency,</span>
  </em>
  <span> according to Kaon, and it’s going to take a couple of days to get there. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>mean I don’t want your </span>
  <em>
    <span>performance report</span>
  </em>
  <span> on my desk by </span>
  <em>
    <span>tomorrow,</span>
  </em>
  <span> understand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma perked up when he heard his name, nervous. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, we have something to </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>attend to?</em>
  </b>
  <span> But when Tarn beckoned him out he followed, perturbed and quiet. What the hell had he just done? And he’d done it so casually, too. He felt briefly sick, and then he closed his eyes.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Nope!</span>
  </em>
  <span> No more. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>done </span>
  </em>
  <span>thinking about it. He couldn’t ruminate on it </span>
  <em>
    <span>another second </span>
  </em>
  <span>or he’d scream in the hallway and that would </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>raise some questions. Instead, he just followed Tarn back to the habsuite wing, and the Commander opened his door, gesturing for Pharma to go inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doctor did. Tarn’s habsuite was comfortable, with a plush bed and personal decorations on the wall. The door shut behind them and Tarn leaned down behind Pharma, dipping his nose into the crook of the medjet’s neck. Pharma’s spark quickened and his throat went dry. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to ‘face. “I’ve been wanting to </span>
  <em>
    <span>say,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor,” Tarn purred. The hooks were back, snagging this time, pulling taut and sending fissions of pleasure into Pharma’s spark. His valve started lubricating immediately despite how dry he’d been just previous. “How</span>
  <em>
    <span> glad</span>
  </em>
  <span> I am you called me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>rescue you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Pharma mentioned hoarsely, swallowing hard. “I had nobody else to turn to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn somehow got even closer, his fans clicking on. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Exactly,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he murmured, so softly Pharma could barely hear it. It made his sparkrate drop so fast he got lightheaded, knees wobbling, and it was both exhilarating and excruciating all at once. He panted, expecting Tarn to catch him -- and catch him Tarn did, both in body and voice. He supported Pharma’s sagging form, sweeping him up, and turning around so he was sitting on the bed and setting Pharma back down standing between his knees. He spread his legs, leaned back, and let his spike out, removing his mask with confidence this time. And Primus, if that itself didn’t make Pharma wet, no Voice required.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He dropped to his knees so quickly he thought they might have dents, eyes rooted to Tarn’s. He was physically unable to look away, hypnotized by the red of those optics. He laid a gentle kiss on Tarn’s knee, and squirmed. Tarn just wrapped a hand around the base of his spike, holding it as it pressurized. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Go on,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he purred, stroking it up and down. Primus, it was huge. Pharma knew it was -- after all, he’d had that toy for decades now -- but still. The doctor shimmied forwards and leaned down, taking the head into his mouth and closing his eyes on instinct as he bobbed his head, up and down. It was hot and heavy against his tongue, and the smell of Tarn’s arousal was dizzying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so much more </span>
  <em>
    <span>confident </span>
  </em>
  <span>when you’re not </span>
  <em>
    <span>blindfolded,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn sighed, a hand coming to pet and fondle one side of Pharma’s face. He didn’t seem to mind how far down Pharma went, so the medjet just kept going down, sucking down more and more of him, moaning and panting around the spike in his mouth. It was already halfway inside and he was feeling far overfull. He knew he could get down to the plating of Tarn’s groin with the head decisively entering his throat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Mmm, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can’t decide which one I like </span>
  <em>
    <span>more, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Doctor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma just whimpered around Tarn’s spike, swallowing again and again and sucking as he pulled his head back up in a long, slow pass, popping off with a soft gasp. Then he kissed at the slit for a while, sucking and licking it, making sure to get Tarn’s spike very, very wet. Maybe, if he did an excellent job, Tarn would finally let him have it. Just the thought of having a living, hot, pumping spike inside of him made Pharma’s valve clench, his eyes rolling back in anticipated ecstasy at the thought. He pushed his head back down, pushing himself further and further until the head slid past his primary intake cover and he kissed the flat of Tarn’s plating. The DJD commander groaned, and seemed to lose his patience, because he grabbed Pharma by the sides of his head and started thrusting. Pharma could do nothing but let ou gurgled moans as Tarn fucked his face, slowly at first but soon he was smacking his groin plating against Pharma’s abused lips, making the jet sob around his thick spike. Pharma wanted to believe they were tears of misery, but his squirming betrayed him, as did the building ecstasy in his node and spke. His panels snapped open as Tarn stood up, slightly unbalancing Pharma but holding him in place by the head to keep pounding into his throat. He groaned, loudly, spike twitching, and Pharma tried his best to swallow in rhythm but soon figured it was best to let Tarn use his throat how he pleased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn made it a few more thrusts -- and then he moaned unabashedly, slamming his hips forwards and cumming down Pharma’s throat. Pharma barely had to swallow to down it all, but he gulped it anyways, fans screaming as his spike dripped prefluid and his valve fluttered and clenched in something just shy of an overload. He moaned, desperately, garbled, frantically, </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tarn to please him, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>keep pleasing</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn finally stopped cumming and sighed, slipping his spike out of Pharma’s mouth to sit back against the bed, panting. He smiled down at Pharma, a lazy smile full of smugness and delight. Pharma was squirming, rutting against his heel, making pleasured little whimpers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>ready,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn murmured. “Look how </span>
  <em>
    <span>worked up</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’ve gotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>without my ability,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pharma.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The medjet didn’t know what he was talking about. He was sure Tarn had been pleasuring his spark. How else could he be so aroused at the moment? He thought back to the last time he felt hooks in his spark… and realized it had been when Tarn had sent him into freefall and boosted him back up. A chasm yawned in front of Pharma, deep and abyssal, and the doctor took one look at it and decided oblivion was preferable to introspection. So he just dropped to his hands to crawl forwards, begging now.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Please,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tarn,” he sobbed, leaning his head against the tankformer’s knee.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “I can’t take it anymore,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he cried. At first he considered asking Tarn to kill him. It was quickly overtaken by his desire. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>your spike. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>need </span>
  </em>
  <span>you to fuck me. Please, Tarn, this is</span>
  <em>
    <span> cruel.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn cooed, taking pity. “I suppose you’re right,” he murmured. It was too good to be true; Pharma refused to believe it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Come on up here, </span>
  </em>
  <span>then, Doctor.” Tarn even helped Pharma up, settling the plane down with his cockpit to the bedcovers, arms above his head, and his aft in the air. His valve was dripping now, fully lubricated, biolights flickering in invitation. Tarn kissed at his aft and breathed in, chortling lowly to himself at how eager and needy Pharma was. The medjet didn’t care anymore, whimpering, mewling, crying. Whatever would get Tarn’s thick, throbbing, hot spike inside of him the fastest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” he whispered, desperate, and perhaps this was one of Tarn’s tricks, because Pharma was sure that if Tarn used a false spike now he would offline right then and there. Instead, Tarn shuffled up on his knees behind Pharma, and a wet spikehead teased at his desperately clenching hole. “Please!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shh,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor,” Tarn soothed, and he didn’t need the hooks in Pharma’s spark to do it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Hold still.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma held as still as a statue. Tarn lined up, and then shoved his hips forwards, filling Pharma to the hilt in one smooth thrust. Pharma </span>
  <em>
    <span>screamed, </span>
  </em>
  <span>so loudly his voice shattered into binary, and his optic fritzed out. He just let his mouth hang open as Tarn didn’t give him a second’s reprieve, hips pistoning hard and fast, and oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>oh.</em>
  </b>
  <span> Pharma’s mind went</span>
  <em>
    <span> blank.</span>
  </em>
  <span> All he could focus on was how Tarn’s piercing was striking his ceiling node and how the head of Tarn’s spike was teasing his overflow tank rim, lighting up nodes only to retreat, only to light them up again. And his spike was</span>
  <em>
    <span> thick,</span>
  </em>
  <span> too, </span>
  <em>
    <span>thick </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot </span>
  </em>
  <span>and just every </span>
  <em>
    <span>inch</span>
  </em>
  <span> as satisfying as Pharma needed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>craved.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He knew he was screaming, knew he was begging, knew he was babbling, and he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t care</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- he was praising Tarn’s spike, thanking him for finally fucking him with it, crying out for more. Tarn didn’t even stop when Pharma fell apart in a screaming overload, even passing out for a couple of seconds. When the doctor blearily came to, Tarn was still pounding away, grunting and growling and purring, </span>
  <em>
    <span>purring, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>purring.</em>
  </b>
  <span> His fans screamed and his engines roared like beasts, and Pharma felt like Tarn </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a beast. Tarn managed to rip a second overload from him only a few thrusts later and still kept going, though Pharma knew his pre-overload noises. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn was groaning like he did just before he came, and his thrusts became shallower, faster, and was his spike getting slightly longer? It was slightly thicker at the base, too… Pharma couldn’t bring himself to care until it was thick enough to </span>
  <em>
    <span>notice.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The medjet’s eyes flew wide open in sudden terror. Tarn had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>knotting mod.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was going to</span>
  <em>
    <span> knot Pharma,</span>
  </em>
  <span> stretching him impossibly wide. Just as Tarn drew back all the way out, the head teasing at Pharma’s rim, the jet cried out, “No, wait!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn surged back in, filling the medjet in one single, </span>
  <em>
    <span>divine</span>
  </em>
  <span> thrust, and his not-fully-inflated knot popped in snugly just past the rim and finished its expansion, trapping the doctor onto it. Simultaneously, the head of his spike shoved just past his overflow chamber’s rim, lighting up seldom-touched nodes and teasing even more seldom-touched ones just inside Pharma’s overflow tank. Tarn growled, </span>
  <em>
    <span>snarled</span>
  </em>
  <span> really, and shot load after load of transfluid into Pharma’s overflow tank. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as the tank had knotted him Pharma had cum, and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>cumming, the feeling of transfluid hitting the top of his overflow tanks terrifying and delicious and oh so arousing, all at once. He just shivered and convulsed and moaned gutturally, eyes rolling back in his head and Tarn's fans howled. The tankformer </span>
  <em>
    <span>still had more cum.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It filled Pharma’s overflow tank and squirted back into his valve from around Tarn’s spikehead. Finally the loads stopped blasting one after the other, and Tarn sagged, draping himself over top of Pharma with a lazy, satisfied hum. Another small gush spurted from him, Pharma could feel it. So </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>was why he had removed Pharma’s hands from his spike that night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Doctor,” Tarn slurred, evidently pleased with himself. “You think I</span>
  <em>
    <span> don’t know</span>
  </em>
  <span> how to knot someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasurably?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I stand heartily corrected,” Pharma wheezed, still trembling a little. Every single twitch or spurt from Tarn’s spike had him squirming and twitching himself, oversensitive array subjected to an endless onslaught of stimulation. “Primus, I want you to do this to me </span>
  <em>
    <span>every day.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn laughed, nosing into the junction between Pharma’s neck and shoulder. He started to nibble, moving his hips. His spike stayed mostly rooted, but it did do interesting things to the rim of Pharma’s valve, because the knot was pulling him open impossibly wide before the swell could even slip outside of his hole. “Mm, don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>make </span>
  </em>
  <span>requests you don’t want me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fill,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he purred.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma whimpered outright, eyes rolling back into his head. He was sure he’d regret that at some point, but for now all he could think of was how Tarn’s spike was the most satisfying thing he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever taken.</span>
  </em>
  <span> At first he’d thought it was just the most satisfying thing he’d had in a long time -- thanks to Tarn’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>possessiveness </span>
  </em>
  <span>-- but now, he was convinced he’d never had anything even </span>
  <em>
    <span>approaching </span>
  </em>
  <span>this. Tarn’s spike was </span>
  <em>
    <span>heaven.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The piercing teased at overflow nodes and Pharma moaned into his pillow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stayed there long enough that Pharma’s joints were sore when they finally separated, a deluge of transfluid spilling out of his stretched, abused hole. Tarn just guided Pharma between his legs again, as Pharma was too tired and too uncaring to protest. He just opened his mouth dutifully for Tarn to slip inside, and tasted a mixture of Tarn’s transfluid and his own excited, aroused fluids drenching the tankformer’s spike. It was intoxicating and Pharma’s valve took an interest again. Tarn facefucked him like last time, thrusting and pulling Pharma’s head up and down again and again. Pharma just closed his eyes and let himself drift contentedly, mind comfortably blank -- the only thing he cared to care about was sucking down Tarn’s spike again and again and again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His lips hit a familiar swell. Tarn was grunting again. Pharma’s eyes flew open for the second time and he planted his hands on Tarn’s thighs, attempting to pull himself back in a panic. Knotting his valve was one thing, that was where it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to go. But Primus, he could break his </span>
  <em>
    <span>jaw </span>
  </em>
  <span>if this went wrong!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn growled again, a laugh somewhere deep in it, and he drew Pharma’s head up before bringing it back down </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Once again, the swelling knot slid home and immediately trapped Pharma onto it, this time his teeth and jaws the barrier to its exit. He just ranted angrily at Tarn, but nothing could even form shape around the massive spike down his throat. Tarn was too busy pumping into Pharma’s throat, and Pharma choked, gagging and coughing. Transfluid, with nowhere else to go, spurted out of his nose, spattering onto his face as he gagged and coughed and moaned. His valve pulsed and Tarn gave him one, gentle hum to push him right over the edge. By the time Tarn’s overload had mostly finished, Pharma’s was winding down too, and he sagged, Tarn’s knot still taking up his mouth and making his jaw ache. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tarn just crooned, chuckling at Pharma’ choking and gagging. He petted Pharma’s jaw, crooned to the medjet, and watched Pharma sag in relief as the transfluid slacked off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, finally, his knot deflated to the point that Pharma could pull himself off of Tarn’s spike. He immediately let out a huge sigh, and sagged down into the bed, exhausted down to his very spark. He could barely stay awake. Tarn laid down on his side next to the jet, propping his elbow on the bed and his cheek on his fist. “Tired, Doctor?” he asked, reaching out to pet and caress. It turned into dragging Pharma over to cuddle, spooning the jet. “You can take a little nap. I’ll sing to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pharma, sticky with cum and too exhausted to speak, let alone move, didn’t bother protesting. Tarn began to sing, and it lulled him to an almost immediately blackout sleep, darkness coming hard and fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
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